


Because I Want You

by carolion



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-23
Updated: 2011-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-22 23:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolion/pseuds/carolion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cook claims Archie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I Want You

The thing with Archie was… weird. It still surprised Cook, the way Archie would smile at him when they got a chance to reunite, and how he’d smile back, and then somehow they’d end up having sex at the end of the night. It was just really, really weird.

Don’t get him wrong. It was obscenely _hot_ , but Archie was not the kind of guy anyone would guess had _casual sex_ on a semi-regular basis, especially not casual sex with another _man_. Sometimes even Cook didn’t believe it, until of course he caught sight of the hickies on his skin in the mirror, and, well, they were pretty real. But it was more than just the fact that they had sex, but the fact that this had been going on since the Idol Tour of ’08, which was kind of _insane_. Cook had no idea if Archie was seeing anyone or having sex with anyone else (and he chose to ignore that white hot burst of jealous rage in his stomach, thank you very much) but he knew that, even if they tried to act friendly and normal with each other, the day always ended with both of them in bed, sticky and sated and blissed out.

It wasn’t like they saw each other that often, anyway. Not often enough. (Maybe that’s why he always wanted to see Archie? Because he knew there was going to be sex at the end? Jesus, would that make him like one of Pavlov’s dogs? See Archie: expect sex.) And, after two years of this weird hooking up thing that they were doing, just seeing things that reminded Cook of Archie was enough to get him going. Like, sometimes just his twitter updates or overhearing someone say ‘gosh’ and suddenly, Cook was _aching_ and wanting, and wondering if he could pull off casually texting Archie to see where he was, and then driving the fuck over as fast as possible (even if it was in god-knows-where Utah, in those moments? He’d drive to the ends of the Earth if it meant he could touch Archie again.)

The near misses were the worst. All the times he would text Archie: “Hey I’m in the Bay Area!” or “Just landed in Utah!” or “Heard you were in Vegas today!” only to get “Are you serious?! I just left yesterday!” and “Oh I’m not there! Just landed in DC, haha” and “No, I won’t be there until Thursday, are you gonna be gone by then??” It was beyond frustrating. Like, the anticipating would start to build, and he’d get, okay, he’ll admit it, he’d get so worked up about it, just imagining what it’d be like to strip Archie down and kiss all the way down his chest, and slide his hands up his thighs, and do as many dirty things possible in the allotted time they had together. It was – distracting. Other people started to notice when he spaced out, elbowing him or waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention, and teasing him about what he could _possibly_ be daydreaming about. A part of him wanted to tell them, just to see the look on their faces, but his more rational side usually gained control and reeled it in.

The thing is – this thing with Archie used to constantly surprise him, and he was always amazed at how it worked out. Especially on tour, they had sex as often as they could with so many people around, and it was crazy and _amazing_ and left him feeling bewildered and excited and happy. He’d had a few minor (read: major) freak outs about Archie’s age, and how illegal it was, and how he was completely and totally corrupting him, but then Archie had blown him in the back of bus while everyone was out signing autographs, and he could hear the fans screaming all around them, and all he could do was lie there and groan and _accept it_. So, he sort of got with the program. But it wasn’t a relationship, by any means. They didn’t hold hands, or go out to dinner (except, well, they did, but it wasn’t romantic at all, it was more like “Hey Archie, want to grab a burger?” or “I heard that Chinese place was pretty good” or something like that, and it was totally normal guy-stuff, not like, date-type-stuff) or talk about how much they liked each other (except in every interview ever, and, hm) and besides, Cook was kind of dating Kim at the time.

Archie didn’t really like Kim. But he never really mentioned her either, so Cook figured it was okay. And it wasn’t like he was cheating on her or anything, because he and Archie weren’t dating, and he and Kim weren’t really serious, and it was all just sort of weird and jumbled and crazy. It felt surreal, like any moment he was going to wake up and he was still tending bars and goofing around with Neal and Andy. But he didn’t wake up.

He tried to keep tabs on Archie. What he was doing, how he was doing, that sort of stuff. When Archie’s new single had been debuted and spread like wildfire on the Internet, he’d listened to it (and smiled, because, well, try listening to it and _not_ smile, okay?) and then sent Archie a quick ‘Congrats on the single’ text, just to let him know he was thinking about him. He tried not to think about long it had been since they’d seen each other, or what they’d done the last time, or exactly what he’d like to do the _next_ time. At least, he tried not to think about it until Archie’s single cover came out.

Cook stared. And stared. And then he stared some more. Because – when had Archie gone from seriously cute and alarmingly attractive to mature, and grown up, and _sexy_ as hell? Cook sat back and ran a hand through his hair, still staring at Archie’s intense eyes, and his flawless skin, and the subtle curve of his lips, and his fucking hair. He was suddenly irrationally jealous of everyone who had been around Archie within the last six months, everyone who had gotten to see him turn into _this_ , whatever this was. It was dangerous is what it was.

Cook unclenched his hands and tried to calm down, but really, he knew there wasn’t a fucking thing that could calm him down. Except, of course, calling Archie up and maybe storming over to his house and then throwing him down and _fucking_ him. A shiver of pleasure (just at the very _thought_ of it, Jesus Christ) ran down his spine and Cook immediately reached for his phone. He’d never actually called Archie to meet up with sex in mind before. He’d always had good intentions, honestly. But this time? Cook looked at the ‘Something About Love’ cover again, and imagined cupping that face in his hands, and kissing the half-smirk right off his face, and making those eyes flutter shut with pleasure, and – yeah, he wasn’t going even going to try and lie to himself.

“Archie,” he said, when the boy picked up the phone with a happy ‘Cook! Hi!’ He had no idea what he was doing except that he needed to see his friend like, right away, right now, as soon as possible. “Are you in LA?” He held his breath.

“Um, yeah, I am, actually! I just got back last night, haha. I’ve been crazy busy. How’re you? Are you still in the studio?” Archie sounded tired but happy, a little breathless – but he always sounded a little breathless. And, jeez, just hearing the cadence of his voice made Cook’s heart speed up. How long had it been since they’d even spoken over the _phone?_ Texts and twitter were all fine and good but, damn, it was good to hear his voice.

“Yeah, uh, Arch you need to come over.” Cook paused, and licked his lips. “Like, right now. Or, when you can. I haven’t seen you in so long, man, and I want-“ he stopped himself. He didn’t want to bring up the subject, when neither of them had ever mentioned it before, in words. Everything was always so natural between them, even the first time Archie had pressed his lips against Cook’s, nervous and brief, but natural.

“You want?” Archie prompted – Cook couldn’t tell if he was deliberately teasing him or not, but he stifled a groan and pressed the heel of his hand to his already insistent erection. Jesus, this kid was going to kill him one day.

“I want to see you Arch, c’mon. I need to see you.” He pitched his voice a little lower, more intimate, and heard Archie’s sharp intake of breath. He wondered briefly if he’d crossed a line or something, but then Archie kind of let out the breath he was holding.

“Yeah. Yeah, um, you’re still in the same place, right? I can, um, I can drive over right now if you want.” Cook glanced at the clock. It was nine o’clock at night – Archie had to know this wasn’t just a social call. The idea that Archie was agreeing to this, _knowing_ that they were going to have sex – he bit his lip to keep from making a sound and hummed appreciatively instead.

“Yeah,” he finally croaked, clearing his throat. “Yeah, come on over. I’ll leave the door unlocked, okay?” Then he hung up and collapsed back onto his bed, a little dizzy and hot and vibrating with anticipation.

It only took a half an hour for Archie to arrive. When he did, Cook heard the sound of his front door opening and closing, the jingle of car keys, and then two soft thumps as Archie toed off his shoes. Cook smiled to himself, and ran a hand down his own chest, tucking his fingers into the waist of his jeans and just keeping it there, brushing his fingers along the sensitive skin above his groin.

“Cook?” Archie called softly, and knocked on the door before stepping in. “Are you- oh.” Cook propped his head up just in time to see Archie’s eyes go wide and round, and he sat up completely, yanking his hands from his jeans. It was a shock, seeing him in person. Cook felt every muscle in his body tense as he drank the younger boy in, from how broad and sturdy his shoulders and chest looked, to his small waist and delicate wrists, all the way to how his tight jeans clung to his hips, and how his feet looked in their grey socks, defenseless and domestic. A hot surge of desire swept through him as Cook looked up at Archie’s face, where Archie was licking his lips, clearly unsure of himself. It really _had_ been a while.

“Fuck,” Cook said, and it was weirdly hollow and echoey, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Archie turned red and looked down at the carpet, his toes curling up self-consciously. Cook leapt from the bed in an awkward lurch, and stumble the few steps until he was wrapping his arms around his younger friend and dragging him in close, burying his nose in the thick dark hair and pressing a kiss to the side of his hair. “Oh, Jesus, I’ve missed you,” he said without thinking, only focusing on the way Archie’s body melted into his, relaxing and molding into that perfect shape.

“I’ve missed you too Cook,” Archie mumbled against his chest, his lips moving against his skin where his shirt was sort of undone, and that’s when Cook remembered how turned on he was, because it kind of sent sparks all the way from his head to his toes. He pushed away from Archie, then, one hand sliding up to grip him firmly around the neck, the other hand laying flat on Archie’s chest. He backed him up to the wall and held him there, just looking at him. Archie looked back, his lashes dark and curling and more beautiful than any stupid girl’s lashes, and his lips were parted and Cook could see his tongue as it came out to wet them, _again_.

Cook groaned and leaned down to smash his lips against Archie, and holy fuck, it was like coming _home_. All that anticipation and eagerness and _want_ exploded in that moment, and everything started to move really fast as Archie moaned into his mouth and gripped tightly at the back of his shirt, his fingers twisting tight in the fabric. Cook felt out of control. _This_ is what he wanted, all of the time. _This_ is what he was missing from his life.

Growling a little, he shoved a hand to Archie’s pants, his fingers moving deftly to undo the belt buckle and drag the zip-fly down, biting and licking at Archie’s mouth, determined to bruise them so they’d puff up gorgeously by morning, and make it known that he wasn’t as innocent as his publicist would like to portray. Somehow his other hand had made it into Archie’s hair, and he could actually _grab_ it now, and _yank_ , hard. Archie just panted into his mouth and mouthed ‘yes, please, yes’ breathlessly, so Cook dragged him to the bed with one hand in his hair and the other down his pants.

He practically _threw_ Archie onto the bed and snapped out “Take off your clothes,” already yanking the one he had on off, and undoing his own jeans to push them down and step out of. Archie was scrambling to do this same, and his skin was miles and miles of perfect smoothness that Cook wanted to suck and lick and bite. He was literally trembling with want, his hands reaching out to slide along Archie’s splayed legs, listening to the quick pants and muffled moans.

“Don’t,” Cook said, scratching his nails gently along Archie’s inner thighs. “Let me hear you, that’s it,” he encouraged, his body tight and hot with arousal. Fuck, he missed this. He missed seeing Archie stretched out on a bed, his chest heaving and his dick full and hard and all his. He missed listening to Archie’s sweet little gasps and the way he said ‘Cook’, how his lips wrapped around the name and made it sound _pornographic_.

Cook crawled up to lay on top of his lover, taking the time to stare at Archie, and run his thumb along his full lower lip, before sucking it into his mouth greedily. He bit down gently, just to hear Archie squeal, and then laughed and drew back, peppering kisses all along his face and neck, taking the time to pick a spot and suck, _hard_ sure to leave a mark.

His body thrummed with heat and tension, and he wanted, he wanted something. He needed to – he needed to make sure Archie never left him alone for so long again. That Archie belonged to _him_. It was a deeply satisfying thought, the idea of _claiming_ this boy, making him _his_. He felt frenzied and out of control, his body hitching up to rut like an animal against Archie’s accommodating body. It felt good to be on top like this, his weight pinning the boy against the mattress, even though he didn’t, like, _dwarf_ Archie or anything, it just clicked inside of him, made everything go sharp and tangible and _real_. He growled a little and pushed Archie towards the top of the mattress, so their legs weren’t hanging off the edge, and then stroked a hand all the way up Archie’s side, feeling how his body jumped and shook from the light caress.

He held two fingers to Archie’s swollen lips and smirked down at him, raising an eyebrow at the look on his lover’s face, which was a combination between desperate lust and pleading. “Suck hard,” he said in a low, gravelly voice, one that didn’t even sound like him, it was so demanding. But Archie didn’t even hesitate. He closed his hot, wet, _perfect_ mouth around Cook’s fingers and let his eyes flutter closed, groaning as he sucked and licked, coating them with his saliva as thoroughly as he could. Cook’s stomach went all wobbly and shivery, and he could feel his own cock _throbbing_ against his thigh, and it twitched, wanting so badly to have that mouth wrapped it.

“That’s enough,” he said, and Archie opened his mouth and his eyes and his lips were wet and shiny and _obscene_ , so Cook had no choice but to kiss him hard, even as his fingers sunk down and pressed eagerly against the boy’s entrance. Cook swallowed every sound Archie made as his fingers breached him, and he let his body weight hold him down as he shook and arched against Cook. He loved this. He loved every part of this, the kissing, the sounds, the way their bodies slid against each other, wet from sweat and so fucking hot. He loved how soft and tight and amazing Archie felt around his fingers, and this was achingly familiar, in the best possible way. He loved the way Archie squirmed as he pressed in deeper and twisted his fingers, and he loved the quiet sound Archie made when he pressed far enough, just right, and how his body shook desperately.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Archie chanted, his arms looped around Cook’s neck loosely, his knees splayed out. “Okay, okay, Cook, please, you can-“ And Cook felt something in his chest just _break loose_ and it got a lot rougher.

He pulled his fingers out as gently as he could, despite how his hand was shaking, and then fumbled desperately for the lotion he kept on the bedside table; he couldn’t bother with finding the actual lube and this was going to have to work, because if he didn’t get slicked up and _inside_ Archie as soon as possible? He might actually end up hurting Archie, and he didn’t want to do that – he was flying out the window, he’d _never_ felt like this before, this crazy and dominant and pushy. Archie scrambled to pushed his hips up and hook his legs around Cook’s waist, looking up at him with wide-blown pupils and practically hyperventilating. His fingernails were scrabbling at Cook’s chest and Cook couldn’t _think_ , couldn’t do anything but shove Archie into position and line himself up, leaning over his lover and sinking into him a little too fast and little too rough.

Oh, _fuck_. It was all kinds of perfect. Something fierce exploded in Cook’s chest and he made an inhuman sound and thrust up, smooth and strong, and amazing. His. This was _his_. He’d _make_ it his, make it so that Archie never wanted anyone else, never ran to anyone else but Cook. He wanted to _own_ him, his body, his mind, his heart, every part of him. He wanted Archie to feel as _consumed_ as Cook felt in that moment.

“Mine,” he bit out viciously, and started fucking Archie for real now, none of this slow, soft bullshit, but full-bodied thrusts where Archie’s body scooted up on the mattress from the force of it, and he let out little squeaks and mewls every time Cook sank back in to the hilt. Archie’s eyes were wild and he clung desperately to Cook’s shoulders, his fingernails digging in deep as his entire body tensed and squirmed. His legs tightened around Cook’s waist, and Cook put a hand on one hip, squeezing roughly as their bodies slammed together beautifully. “Mine, this is mine, all mine,” he said firmly, and leaned down to kiss Archie.

“Please, please, yes, oh, _yes_ ,” Archie hissed, and then let out a long, sweet moan that made Cook feel triumphant.

“Say it,” he demanded dangerously, fisting a hand in Archie’s hair and _yanking_ until the boy cried out. “This is mine, always, say it,” and in some small, rational part of Cook’s brain, he was screaming ‘what the fuck are you saying you idiot?!’ but that part was being very firmly ignored. Archie made a soft whimpering sound and turned his cheek to the sheets, closing his eyes and gasping.

God his body felt like it was on fire. Waves of pleasure crashed through him, and Cook bit the inside of his cheek to keep from falling into oblivion. He twisted his fingers tighter in Archie’s hair and hauled him a little off the mattress. “Say it,” Cook warned, and made himself stop, pressed completely up inside Archie. The boy hissed and scrabbled for a little leverage, to maybe thrust back against Cook, but he was totally and completely pinned by the older man, and could only gulp in deep breaths and shake as Cook’s length filled him up completely, held there strong and steady and unmoving.

“Cook!” He begged, his eyes a little wild. “Move, oh, please move,” he sobbed, and arched off the mattress in a move that almost undid Cook’s resolve, it was so effortlessly graceful and sensual.

“You’re going to have to do better than that Archuleta,” Cook said, and licked a long stripe up Archie’s neck, tasting salt and arousal on his tongue. God, it was amazing. He could feel his cock throbbing and twitching inside of Archie as he held it there – it was the best kind of torture – and though he wanted, so badly, to just _come_ or something, it wasn’t over yet. Archie wasn’t _his_ yet.

“It’s yours, I swear, anything, _always_ , I’m yours,” Archie finally gasped out, and the bare emotion Cook say in his face was enough to completely unravel him.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned out, and he knew it wasn’t going to be much longer. Archie was on the fucking _edge_ , he could tell, and he was so close, so close. Cook pressed Archie into the mattress and drew back, sliding long and slow and perfect, before fucking back into Archie, just as hard and rough as before, and that’s all it took before Archie was coming all over their stomachs, his high pitched keening sound gorgeous and uncontrolled and all for Cook. All for _him_. Cook tensed up and his orgasm hit him suddenly and took him by surprise, so wild and unexpected that it was like a punch to the gut, the bright burst of pleasure and the aftershocks, waves and waves of satisfaction and sharp points of pleasure, where he gasped and swore and mouthed kisses all along Archie’s face, down his jaw, and finally back onto his mouth.

He stayed there for a long time, happy and exhausted and _satisfied_ , in a way he hadn’t ever been before. Laying on top of Archie, keeping him pinned, it felt good, just like it had when he’d lowered himself on top in the beginning. He didn’t even pull out of Archie’s body for a long while, waiting until he was completely soft, and, even then, just resting his forehead against Archie’s and exchanging soft, breathless kisses. When he finally did pull out, he was hit with a reality he hadn’t even considered – his cock was _wet_ , and there was cum _everywhere_ and, oh fuck, they hadn’t used a condom. He didn’t even _think_ about it, he’d been too focused on getting inside of him, on _taking_ him.

Archie winced a little and then whimpered as the cum sort of, uh, came out. And it may have been uncomfortable, but Cook was too busy staring, watching, and he felt heat start to rise in his belly again, even though there was _no way_ he was getting it up for at least another half an hour. Probably more, but, fuck, Archie did things to him. He pressed his fingers against the boys entrance, more for curiosity’s sake than anything, and found it was tender to the touch, and hot and slick, and his fingers slid in easily. Archie groaned and flinched a little, but Cook didn’t think it was from pain. Still – he pulled out easily, wiping his hand on the sheets and draping himself across Archie.

“Cook-“ the boy started, but Cook shook his head and kissed his cheek gently.

“No, no talking. Just sleeping,” he commanded, and was inordinately pleased when Archie didn’t say anything else, just smiled tiredly and closed his eyes. And as they dozed, Cook with his leg and arm thrown possessively around Archie, he couldn’t help but think he was kind of totally screwed. But it was okay. Because this was his.


End file.
